


Destiny's Bitch : Deleted Scene

by nix_this



Series: Destiny's Bitch : A Love Story [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Mind Meld, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-14
Updated: 2011-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nix_this/pseuds/nix_this
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The missing scene after the second meld in Destiny's Bitch</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny's Bitch : Deleted Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as comment porn for [](http://awarrington.livejournal.com/profile)[**awarrington**](http://awarrington.livejournal.com/) because she totally called me out on my fade to black XD (I still plead deadlines!). Behold the (now cleaned up and hopefully typo free) missing sexytimes after the second meld in Destiny's Bitch. Don't read this one first if you still want to read that one, but if you're just after K/S sexytimes you should be able to follow along well enough :D
> 
> Beta'd by the always fabulous janice_lester

Jim emerges from their second meld with the same sense of ease as from their first. Only this time, when he leans up to press his lips against Spock's, he does it with the full knowledge that not only does he love, completely, absolutely, but he is loved in return.

It's headier than any drug.

Spock's fingers shift from the meld points to cradle the back of his head, keeping him in place as his dry, hot tongue slips out to trace the seam of Jim's lips, petitioning for entrance. Jim allows it, obviously, parting his lips on a groan. He's fully hard in seconds but Spock's tongue is tentative, almost too gentle for Jim and his months of pent-up longing. He wants everything Spock can give him. He wants it _now_ , damn it. When he can feel it without the influence of some fucked up drug.

He needs to feel it.

He brings his hands up to Spock's chest, grips the front of his tunic and scoots back, hauling him down on top of him. They crash onto the mattress, bouncing a little with the force of Jim's pull and their teeth clack together. It hurts a bit, but who cares?

Spock pulls back from the kiss, sweeping his eyes hotly over Jim's face and down his body and back up again. His eyebrows approve of this new development.

"You are eager," he murmurs, eyes fixed on Jim's parted lips as if he can see each individual puff of air escape.

Jim grinds up, rolling his hips until their cocks brush together. Spock's just as hard as he is, just as _eager_ , and it's good. "Fucking rights I'm eager," he says, closing his eyes to better appreciate the minute, answering rock of Spock's hips. "Stars, Spock. You have no idea how long..."

Spock's hands return to his face, tenderly brushing his hair from his forehead so that he can press a tiny, warm kiss to its center. "Jim," he breathes. "Ashayam. I know." He stops all movement, ignoring Jim's frustrated moan.

Jim opens his eyes reluctantly. Spock's staring down at him like he still has secrets to uncover, even after today. Jim doesn't agree. Everything he is, everything he wants, everything he _needs_ has been ripped out of him, laid bare and examined. All he is now is hungry for something physical to prove that it was worth it.

But maybe Spock's not there yet, despite the conflicting hard evidence poking into his hip. Jim forces his raging arousal to the back of his brain and struggles to bring his breath back under control. "Too fast?" he asks, finally, studying Spock's serious face.

Spock's mouth quirks up in a half-smile. He shakes his head. "Not as such, Jim," he says. "I merely find that I am reluctant to rush this." He rests his palm against the flush on Jim's cheek and leans down to press their mouths together in another scorching kiss. Their tongues tangle and twist together, and Jim can't help the quick jerk of his hips when Spock pulls back to catch Jim's bottom lip between his teeth gently. He breaks off completely and whispers in Jim's ear: "Based on your urgency, I anticipate that your orgasm will overtake you in approximately five minutes' time." Before Jim can get offended by that (probably true) statement, Spock continues: "I believe I have a solution to the problem that should prove satisfactory for us both."

Jim's horny and intrigued, not the best combination for rational analysis, but, what the hell? He trusts Spock. He relaxes and turns his head to smile back at Spock. "Go for it," he says, spreading his arms out to his sides and giving himself up completely.

Spock's nostrils flare at Jim's easy acceptance, like he's looking for his own measure of control. His fingers retrace the skin of Jim's cheek lightly before settling over the meld points again.

Three melds in one day has got to be some kind of record. Jim wonders if Cave Spock and alternate future him ever did it as many times. Maybe he'll ask next week.

A slight increase of pressure is all the warning he gets before he's drawn completely into the blistering heat of the meld. This one is nothing like the first two, initiated to soothe and communicate, respectively. This time Spock's emotions are all around him, burning him with the intensity of his desire and his love and, yes, his physical need. It's like being thrown into a sea of pure sensation and Jim's perfectly willing to _drown_ in it. How the hell Spock manages to remain so outwardly calm with this churning need boiling inside him, Jim can't fathom.

 _Spock?_ he gasps, as the feedback continues to jolt through him. _This isn't exactly helping the delay-Jim's-orgasm project._

Back in his quarters, Jim's body is writhing beneath Spock's. Needy moans are bubbling, completely unrestrained, from his throat and _fuck_ he can feel it, there and in the meld. He can feel Spock's reactions all around him, and over him, and he can't separate anymore what's action and what's redoubled reflection. It's all good. So good.

His stomach tightens and he can feel his balls pulling in, preparing to set him off on the most intense orgasm of his fucking life.

He gives in to it and his spine arches in anticipation when he feels Spock's satisfaction echo around him and the urgency of his imminent release lessens. His body relaxes, still buffeted by acute physical pleasure and mental stimulation, but somehow more controlled.

 _What the fuck?_

Spock smiles and, oh shit, Jim needs to close his eyes already. It's so surreal to see Spock smile and to _know_ Spock's smiling so intimately in his brain, like trying to stare at opposite corners of a room at the same time.

 _I've taken steps to inhibit your ability to orgasm. You will not be able to do so unless I allow it._

Jim shudders and lets out a shaky mental breath. His heart's hammering in his chest like it's trying to break out, he's so turned on.

 _I fucking knew you'd be a kinky bastard. So how long will this last?_

 _As long as we require._ Spock's mental voice is just a touch smug. _You will not orgasm until I do._

Hoshit. Jim's heard the rumours about Vulcan control, fuck he's _seen_ it before. He whimpers.

 _Jim? Is this acceptable? I had thought--_

Jim hastens to reassure Spock, trying his hand at projecting his acceptance through the meld. _No, no. It's fine. It's great. Just a little overwhelmed by the possibilities._

Spock's relief is like being bathed in soft sunlight. _Indeed._ A curious thread of warmth strokes Jim's mind as Spock confesses, almost shyly: _I have never attempted this before._

Jim's hand closes over Spock's wrist, preparing to disengage the meld. _Let's figure it out together then, yeah?_

 _Please._ Spock's mental voice is whisper-soft, only the vaguest of impressions, as he pulls out of Jim's mind.

Jim's grinning when he opens his eyes again. Spock's right, they've got all night, and now that he's pretty much at the mercy of Spock's control there's a part of him that wants to see how far he can push before it snaps.

His hands go to the hem of Spock's tunic and he tugs it up. "Off," he demands when Spock's slow to respond. "I want to see you."

Spock arches an eyebrow at the command, but sits up and obliges with a quick yank. Later, maybe, Jim will teach him the art of the striptease, but tonight he's too greedy to bother. His fingers skim the trail of hair that teases the waist of Spock's pants, sliding through it as he explores the contours of Spock's abs before moving on to the jut of his hipbones. He keeps his touch light, teasing with just the tips of his fingers and the heels of his palms until he feels Spock twitch under them.

He shoots his Vulcan (his!) a look from under his eyelashes and licks his lips slowly. Spock's eyes are dark and unfathomable, but there's a green flush blooming on his cheeks and tiny hitch in his breath. Jim smiles slowly, curling his lips up a bare fraction of an inch at a time.

"You look beautiful like this," he says, tracing his hands up Spock's stomach and over his chest. He tangles his fingers in the springy hair there and kneads the hard muscle like a cat. "I knew you would, even when I never thought I'd get to see it for myself."

Spock arches into his touch and gasps when their cocks brush together. His thighs squeeze in, pressing hot and hard into Jim's hips. "You, as well," he practically groans as he repeats the motion. Once, twice, a third time--until Jim's a little bit breathless too. "I imagined that you would move under me like this, and the sounds you would make." Spock grinds down hard, eliciting a choked-off moan from Jim as his hands fly up to Spock's shoulders so he can ride out the wave of _so-fucking-good_. If it weren't for Spock's Vulcan voodoo, he would've come just from that. Instead, he's burning alive from the inside and ready for more.

"Oh fuck," Jim says on a laugh, when he can see straight again. "You're going to kill me and I'm going to like it."

"I find that extremely unlikely, Jim," murmurs Spock, running his hands down Jim's chest. "But, in the event that you do expire, I am pleased you will do so contentedly."

"Or," Jim says with a grin as he moves his hands down Spock's back, scratching lightly and enjoying the way Spock automatically shifts to follow the motion, "maybe I'll be the one to make you die with a smile." He gets a double handful of Spock's ass and pulls him into a thrust.

Spock grunts and bears down into it. "Perhaps," he acknowledges unsteadily. "You are welcome to try."

It's a matter of _very_ public record that Jim Kirk loves a challenge. And this one fucking beats anything that's ever been thrown at him. By _light years_. He reaches up and latches onto Spock's shoulders, pulling him down and wriggling, just enough to make him gasp and get some leverage to flip them over.

Spock's eyes widen in surprise when he fully registers that he's on his back. His pupil are dilated, turning his already dark eyes almost fully black. Jim sits up enough to strip off both of his shirts and throw them to the floor. He sinks back down and revels in the heat of skin on skin. His pants are too tight, but he doesn't care, rubbing shamelessly over Spock and breathing in the scent of their combined sweat and skin. Spock's always smelled kind of spicy to him and he's delighted to discover that the sharpness translates to taste as well when he runs his tongue in a long, wet stripe down his neck.

"Good," Jim says, between licks. "You taste so fucking good."

Spock reaches his hands up to explore the skin of Jim's back. He grips and teases, alternating the pressure and direction of his strokes until Jim's breath catches on a whine. He scrapes his nails over Jim's ribs and massages a path down his sides. It's like he's still got a window into Jim's brain and knows exactly how and where to touch to make him lose his fucking mind.

Jim sneaks a hand between their writhing bodies and runs a palm over Spock's cock where it's straining against the crotch of his pants. Spock's moans are louder than before, less controlled and more _eager_. Jim pops the fly open with a flick of his wrist and pulls back enough to tug the fabric down over Spock's hips.

Spock's dick is perfect. Long, hot, hard. Green flushed skin stretches tight over it, glistening at the head where a drop of precome beads at the slit. Jim's mouth waters.

"I want to suck you," he says urgently. It's a struggle to look away from the thick vein that curls around Spock's cock, begging to be licked and sucked, but it's worth it to see Spock's eyebrows draw in tight and Spock's eyes go a little bit glassy.

"I-" Spock stutters. Spock _never_ stutters. "I would enjoy that."

Jim leans down so he can breathe a promise into one pointed ear: "You will." Spock shudders beneath him, the hard press of his dick hot on Jim's stomach. Jim bites his earlobe tenderly before shuffling to stand. He bends over to unlace his boots and kicks them unceremoniously out of the way. He shimmies out of his pants and toes off socks in the most efficient striptease he's ever put on for an audience.

It works though.

He stands naked, letting Spock look his fill from his loose sprawl on Jim's bed. Jim's cock curves up toward his stomach, fully hard, red and leaking. Jim runs a hand over it in absent affection. Spock tracks the motion with hungry eyes and Jim indulges his interest with two firm strokes, tracing his fingers over the head to catch some of his precome and bringing them to his lips. He and Spock groan together.

He moves back to the bed and carefully works Spock's boots and the rest of his clothing off. The boots are pushed behind him and the pants go over his shoulder with enough force to hit the wall. The socks follow and Jim's left with a fully naked Spock, something which has gone from being merely craved to essential over the course of a single day.

Spock spreads his legs further apart in blatant invitation and Jim sinks to his knees.

Jim gives the head of Spock's cock an experimental lick, dipping into the slit with the tip of his tongue and letting the salty-sweet flavour rest there a second before swallowing. It's different from his own taste, smoother somehow. Spicy.

He approves and goes back down for another taste. Spock approves of his approval with a throaty moan.

He plays Spock's dick for a bit, lapping at the head contentedly, occasionally pulling back to tease beneath the ridge and suck just the head into his mouth. He uses almost no pressure, just teases and explores until Spock twitches and hisses out a broken: "Please."

Jim looks up and stares into Spock's eyes. Spock's lips are parted and he's panting like he's just run a mile with a pack of angry aliens in hot pursuit. (Jim, tragically, knows what this looks like from experience.)

"You sure you want me to do this?" he asks, trying for taunting and _almost_ succeeding. He leans down to lick again, watching the green flush of arousal spread down to Spock's neck. "I mean," he continues softly, "if you come, it's all over for both of us. And I really want you to fuck me tonight."

Spock growls, actually growls, and it's one of the hottest things Jim's ever heard in his life. "I will be able to control myself," Spock says, the confident statement belied by how carefully he has to enunciate each word. "Vulcans are in complete control of their biological functions."

Jim grins. "Well, in that case..."

Jim uses every trick in his arsenal to make Spock fall apart. He swallows him down to the root and uses his entire tongue to massage the shaft as he works his way back up. He pins Spock's hips in place and then relaxes and lets him fuck his mouth, keeping him wet and covered at all times, with his lips or with his hands. He alternates between hard suction and fluttering kisses as he explores every single inch, occasionally nosing down into Spock's balls and licking behind them.

Spock keens breathlessly and his hips are jerking and thrusting with no regard for rhythm, just need. Jim works his own erection with a loose fist, feeling the pleasure build and build, knowing that he won't find release. It's liberating, in a way, knowing he has license to try everything he wants to, taste everywhere he needs to and not have to worry about keeping control.

Next time, and he's still a bit rocked by the knowledge that there will be a next time, they can play with that. But, for now, the thing he most wants is to see Spock lose it. Inside him.

He gives Spock's cock one last, lingering lick before pulling off and straddling his thighs. Spock surges up and kisses him, desperate and greedy, lapping up his own taste as if it's in the way of what he really needs. He moans into the kiss and urges Jim's tongue out and into his own mouth, silently begging for more heat.

Jim shifts until their cocks align and he moves them together, shuddering each time they slip and slide against each other.

Spock's hands are on his ass, rubbing and squeezing as they rock in tandem. One hand slides between his cheeks and he can feel a light touch at his hole, like a question.

Jim rips his mouth away from Spock's and presses their foreheads together, cradling Spock's face between his hands. "Fuck, you're _amazing_ ," he breathes. "I want you so much. Want your hands on me, want your cock in me, want everything."

"Yes," Spock says simply. "Yes, Jim."

Spock grabs onto one of Jim's hands and brings it to his mouth, sucking two fingers in and laving them with his tongue. It's hot and wet and perfectly obscene, and Spock doesn't break eye contact as he flutters the tip of his tongue between Jim's knuckles and sucks so hard his cheeks hollow.

Jim bucks his hips and pulls his hand back, groaning when Spock's reluctance to release results in a loud pop when they finally break free. He trails his spit-slick fingertips over the curve of Spock's bottom lip, before reaching back to stretch himself open. It burns when the first knuckles slip past his rim and he stops.

"Fuck. Been too long. Lube. Need lube."

With that brilliant articulation, he scrabbles over Spock to the other side of the bed and searches frantically through his nightstand. His hand closes on a slim bottle and he pulls it out and waves it at Spock triumphantly. "Victory!"

Spock rips the bottle from his hand and pushes him onto his back. "I want to-"

Jim nods and spreads his legs. "Yeah, do it. Want you to."

Spock's nostrils flare as he pours the lube over his fingers and rubs them together, coating them thoroughly and warming the liquid in turn. He's shivering like they're marooned on Delta Vega without winter gear, slopping some of the slippery liquid onto Jim's thighs in his urgency.

Impatient, Jim leans up and grabs Spock's hand, positioning his fingers right where he wants them. "Do it, Spock. Fuck me open."

Spock nods, taking a second to fully take in the sight of Jim spread out and waiting for him before pressing the first two fingers into Jim's hole. The lube eases their path and Jim moans as he's opened. Spock's touch is firm, brushing against his walls as he works his way in. It still burns, a little, but it's _Spock_ inside him now, and the discomfort is meaningless. Good, even, because he can feel it, will feel it tomorrow and remember.

Spock leans over Jim, fingers thrusting in and out at an easy pace. He catches Jim's bottom lip with his teeth and licks into his mouth, adding another finger only when Jim's bucking and moaning beneath him.

At four, Jim's wrecked. He can't kiss Spock and still breathe so he tears his mouth away with a whine and arches up to bite his shoulder. "I'm ready," he pants into Spock's ear. "Stars, Spock. I'm so fucking ready."

Spock shudders and rocks back onto his heels. He searches Jim's face for a long moment before nodding, apparently satisfied with whatever he finds. His fingers pull out of Jim's ass with a loud slurp and he fumbles for the bottle of lube. He coats his cock liberally and hitches Jim's hips up, encouraging Jim's legs to wrap tightly around his waist.

Spock tries to go slowly but Jim's having none of it. He thrusts up as Spock breaches him and hauls him forward with his legs until Spock's buried balls deep. He's so hot, so full, it's fucking perfect. He bites his lip and rolls his hips experimentally, searching for the perfect angle. His vision whites out when he finds it, bursts of pleasure singing through his veins, down his spine and into his cock.

"There," he gasps. "Fuck me now."

Spock's hips stutter a few times before settling on a brutal pace, pounding into Jim and hitting his prostate with almost every stroke. Jim's babbling, mostly profanities peppered with endearments and it's good, so good, to buck up and hear Spock cry out his name.

Jim works his own cock frantically, pumping and bucking in time to Spock's thrusts. He can't look away from Spock's face, fully captivated by the sheen of sweat on his brow and the desperate, tiny cries that are sneaking out from between his gritted teeth. Spock's eyes are black, roaming over Jim's face like he's committing it to memory. Their gazes lock for a second and Spock murmurs something in Vulcan that Jim can't quite catch.

It's over quickly after that. Spock's hands grip Jim's hips, tight enough to bruise, and his thrusts become more desperate and erratic. Jim has to brace his arms above his head to avoid slamming into the headboard when Spock arches and he throws his head back and yells: "Jim!"

Spock's release is like lifting a veil. Every sensation that had been dulled and far away rushes back in like a tide of raw pleasure. It crashes and breaks over Jim's nervous system and he screams as he comes. His cock jerks and spurts all over his hand and stomach in hot, sticky stripes.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. Jim has no idea. His brain's still a bit fried from the best sex he's ever had. His whole body is loose and melty in the aftermath, still shuddering with the aftershocks. Spock is a warm, welcome weight over him, and _in_ him. He rearranges himself carefully--unwilling yet to lose any of the closeness--to wrap his arms around Spock, idly stroking the soft skin of his shoulders.

Spock shifts at the light touch and turns his head so that his breath puffs into Jim's ear. Jim tilts his head so that he can nuzzle his cheek against Spock's nose before meeting his eyes.

"Hey," he whispers, unwilling to shatter the closeness of the moment.

Spock smiles softly. "Jim," he whispers back.

Jim raises his hand to trace the edges of Spock's lips. "I like it when you smile at me," he says softly. The memories of the clearing are easier now, and this is a good one.

Spock's smile widens, crinkling the skin around his eyes. "I recall you saying something to that effect."

"Stay?" Jim asks, tightening his arms around Spock's back.

"Always," Spock promises, leaning in to claim Jim's lips in a gentle kiss.

They lie quietly in each other's arms, Spock still buried inside Jim.

Where he belongs.


End file.
